Not What It Seems
by Culf
Summary: Just imagine that fawks didn't turn up in the end of CoS. He did deliver the hat, and faught the basilisk, but then figured that his job was done and left. What would happen? Do you want to make me happy? Then review!
1. Too Late

Things are not always what they seem.  
  
Chapter I: A heros death  
  
Author: Culf  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any other character in this story. Nor do I own the Chamber of Secrets, or anything else. Authors Note: This is my first Harry Potter fanfic, and I'm not even english, so it might not be great. But, please, review!  
  
*********  
  
Harry stumbled as he walked over to the unconscious Ginny. She was so pale. There wasn't much time left...  
  
"Remarkable, isn't it, how quick the venom of the basilisk penetrates the body? I recon you'll be dead within a minute." Tom smiled. Harry fell to his knees beside Ginny. He slowly pulled the basilisk fang out of his arm.  
  
"You'll be with your mudblood mother soon." Harry felt rage flow trough him at the mention of his mother. This was the man that killed her. Or would be killing her. Riddle knew how his words stung. That was the reason behind it all. Keep stinging. He was not to have a pleasant death, after what he did to his future self.  
  
"Funny, the damage a silly, little book can do. Especially in the hands of a silly.. little... girl." Oh yes, he knew Potter had feelings for this girl. Undiscovered and unnoticed, yes, but they were there. Or they would be. He watched as Potter eyed his diary. Those sheds of paper, that had caused so much harm. That would kill the boy-who-lived! Then, something unexpected happened. Potter picked up the book.  
  
"What are you doing?" He was raising the basilisk fang, as if to strike... Wait... "Stop. NO!"  
  
Harry stabbed the book, again and again, as the memory of Tom Riddle, pierced by lightning, exploded, and then... gone. Ginny woke, and saw Harry, the last person she had expected to see, but still, she had hoped he would be her knight in shining amour. And there he was. He probably knew everything, but she had to tell him anyway,  
  
"Harry, it was me. But I swear, I didn't mean to. Riddle made me. And..." The she noticed, all of a sudden, the bloody arm. "Harry, you're hurt!" But just as she had always thought, he didn't put himself first. He was worried about her.  
  
"Ginny, you need to get yourself out. Follow the chamber, and you'll find Ron." Ron? Was he down here too?  
  
"Harry... I can't just leave you."  
  
"There's nothing you can do, Ginny. It's too late." Too late? For what? She doesn't understand. Doesn't want to. But she can see the giant snake, and the fang, and the wound on Harry's arm, and she knows how to put two and two together. He had been bitten, and was going to die from the poison. And it was all her fault. If she hadn't opened her diary, this never would have happened. Non of the people in the hospital wing would have been petrified, and Harry wouldn't be kneeling beside her, dying slowly from snake poison. She felt warm, salty teardrops stream down her face as Harry no longer could sit upright. As he was about to fall, she caught him, and lowered him down, resting his head in her lap. He struggled to breath, and was shaking slightly. Ginny saw his face go pale, even in the dark room. She placed her hand in his, and held it. He was trying to say something, but she couldn't make out what. She just squeezed his hand, but he didn't squeeze back. He couldn't. He never could, ever again.He was gone, forever...  
  
Ginny removed his glasses and closed his eyes with one movement of her tiny hand. And she wept. She just held him and cried her eyes out, rocking slowly. She didn't hear the voice that was drawing nearer. A voice that was shouting her name. And .. his name.  
  
Ron saw the red hair, and instantly figured out that his sister was alive, to his great relief. But why was he hugging Harry so fierily? Or sobbing so loudly? He moved closer, and made out Harry's glasses on the ground. Harry's glasses? Why wasn't he wearing them? He couldn't see a thing without them! Surly he wouldn't take them off to give his baby sister a hug?  
  
"Ginny? Harry? You alright there?" he said. Ginny seemed to notice him, but she only sobbed louder, and clinged to Harry even more.  
  
"Ginny? I'm sure Harry could do with some air." He tried a joking voice, to lighten the mood, but it didn't help. She only sobbed even louder.  
  
"Don't you see, Ron? Can't you see? He doesn't need air. I wish he did, but he doesn't." Her eyes were bloodshot and teary. Doesn't need air? Everybody needs air!  
  
"He'll never breath again, Ron. Never! And it's all my fault. Me and my stupid diary!!!" Never breath again? But that can't be right. Then he'd be... No, he couldn't even think the word. He couldn't, cause then it'd be true. The moment you said, or thought that word, it was too late, and it wasn't. Dumbledore would never let that happen.  
  
But Dumbledore wasn't there. He wasn't on Hogwarts anymore, and Harry was pale, and his lips drew no air. And it was too late. Too late... Harry was gone. And everything felt cold....  
  
TBC... 


	2. Cold and Dark

Chapter II: Cold and dark...  
  
Author: Culf  
  
AN: Ok, from now on, I writing because people told me to, and because I felt like it. I didn't write this to win the Nobel litterateur prize, and if anyone expects quality, then go read something else. This hasn't even been beta-read. I just wrote it after school one day, and sent it trough a spell-check. I've re-read the chapter once, and then I didn't change it. Sorry guys. I might work harder on it if I got some reviews.  
  
Harry was dead. Ron had lost his best friend, and his other friend was at the hospital, petrified. He was all alone.  
  
Alone. Ron, with all his brothers and his sister, had never really felt alone before. Well, at times, he may have, but this was different. This time, he was lonely, and that was a horrible feeling. What was he going to do?  
  
"Ron? Ron? It was the basilisk. The poison killed him. Oh Ron. I didn't mean to. I didn't. But it still is my fault. Ron, what am I gonna do? What are we gonna do?" Ginny rambled, tears pouring down her face. She was still holding Harry.  
  
Harry. They were going to get him out of there. They were all going to get out of there.  
  
"Come on, Ginny. We got to get out. You need to get the hospital wing, and mom and dad are worried sick about you. If they find out I went down here too..." he didn't finish.  
  
Mom and dad were here? She couldn't face them. Not after what had happened down here. But Harry had to get out. He couldn't stay in this cold, dark place.  
  
"How are we gonna get Harry with us?" She said, to make sure Ron wasn't planning on leaving him there.  
  
"I'll carry him. I'll manage." Ron would manage to carry Harry. He had been small for his age, and skinny too, and Ron was tall, but he wouldn't have left him if he was the size of Hagrid.  
  
Ginny slowly picked up Harry's wand. She had been planning on leaving the book behind, but she would have to explain why she had done the things she had. Then she saw two other items as well. The sorting hat and.. a sword? A sword smothered in blood. Basilisk blood. So that was how Harry had defeated that great snake! She wiped it clean on her robe, and brought it too... Harry should be buried with it, like the heroes of old. Or at least she thought so.  
  
Ron picked Harry up. He was heavier then he had reckoned. Just skin and bones, but still heavy . And still warm. He made for the exit, trying not to step on rat-sculls and other bones he did not recognize, and he did not want to speculate in whom they might have belonged to. Ginny trailed him in the dark corridor, looking paler then ever. He suddenly felt an urge to put an arm around her and tell her everything would be all right. But how could it?  
  
He walked without paying attention to the hallways around him, and he had stopped paying attention to what he was stepping on. The only thing he noticed was Ginny's sobs, and how the heat rushed from Harry's body, the same way blood rushed from his face. His lips were blue now, and his face was deadly pale. What would Hermione say when she woke up? Merlin, Hermione. At least she might wake.  
  
Lockhart was sitting on the floor, drawing a pattern in the filth, looking as an innocent little child. But this was no place to be a child, was it? This was no place to be...  
  
Lockhart glared at Ron when he stepped on his pattern, his beautiful pattern. Then he noticed Harry.  
  
"Is he sleeping? Odd time to sleep, isn't it. Too early. Besides, he should.." But Ron never waited to find out what Harry should. He cut Lockhart off with a cold glare and a question.  
  
"Did you find another exit, as I told you to?" He had reckoned that Salazar Slyterin, who, in his mind, looked like Snape, would look ridicules climbing that passage, so it had to be a stair or something nearby.  
  
"Well, yes, I did." Lockhart sounded a bit hurt over not being allowed to tell exactly what he thought that boy should. He had, after all, always gotten the attention he wanted when he opened his mouth, and a simple thing like loosing his memory wouldn't stop him from liking the sound of his own voice. "Actually, it's right over there." He pointed at a hall covered in darkness.  
  
"Professor, I think it's time to get out of here. Yes, that's you." Ron said annoyed as Lockhart walked behind Ginny. They made an odd group, the four of them, as they walked that spiral staircase. There really was no need for walking, as it had been enchanted so the steps of it moved upwards, but it was quicker that way, and he wanted out desperately. He had heard of muggle devices that worked like this, but he found it hard to believe that something like this could be made without magic.  
  
He could hear Ginny sniffing, right behind him, but when he turned to look, he could not see it. It was too dark. The stairs ended abruptly, and Ron frowned to find nothing but a wall on the top of it. Why did they have to build a wall right there? How were they going to get out now? He kicked at the wall, mad at life itself, but his foot did not connect with anything. It went right trough! He kicked again. Nothing. Then he tried to step trough it, and it worked. It was like platform 9 ¾, but when he touched the wall from outside, it was as solid as ever. Seconds later, Ginny and Lockhart emitted from the wall as well, and Ron noticed for the first time that Ginny was holding a sword, but he did not bother to think of it.  
  
There was a noise. Ron couldn't make it out at first, cause it was so wrong. Someone giggled.  
  
"Harry died? That's great! Now he can share my toilet."  
  
"No Myrtle, he can't" Ron answered angrily. Myrtles comment had made Ginny break into another fit of sobs. "He didn't return as a goste, like you did. He's gone forever." How could she be so insensitive? With a disappointed sniff she dived into the toilet, probably to ponder about death in the u- bend. Then Ron remembered what he had said. He didn't return as a goast! Why? He could have couldn't he? Why did he leave him here, all alone, when he could have returned, more or less? His mourning turned to anger. Why did he leave him and Hermione?  
  
Skinny as Harry was, he still was heavy to drag around, and even if Ron would rather die than admit it, his arms were aching. He walked like zombie, his eyes glazed and red-brimmed. He could still hear random sobs from Ginny. Lockhart had finally gotten the mind to stay quiet. For the moment he was looking at all the pictures he past. Normally, these hallways would have been filled with students, but not now. Everybody was in their common rooms.  
  
Well, nearly everybody.  
  
AN: Not too great, I know, but I warned you. Please review, and I'll be forever grateful!!!TBC... 


	3. And they say that a hero can save us

Not what it might seem.  
  
Author: Culf Disclaimer: I don't own this, and I surly don't make any money on it. AN: I think I worked less on this one, though I wrote the chapter two times. A certain student was nicer in the first one, and I'm not sure if it turned out for the better. I would love your opinion on it! On to the story...  
  
And they say that a hero can save us...  
  
A student lost in thoughts was walking down a deserted corridor. He knew he should be in the common room, like they had all been ordered too, but he was a Malfoy, and Malfoy's didn't take orders from anyone. He was in a foul mood, but not for the reasons he should be. He should've been with his friends, celebrating the death of a mudblood who had never done him wrong. Or at least he thought so. He didn't know who had been taken, only that it was a poor fool of a girl. A first year, apparently, and a Gryffindor. He snarled at the thought of those do-good'ers. He didn't hate mudbloods, as he pretended to, nor did he truly hate Granger. He didn't love them. No, he despised the lot, but he didn't hate them. He only hated two people in his life. One was Harry Potter. He hated Potter for turning down his friendship. For being admired by everyone, and for being nothing but nice to his friends, and nothing but rude when it came to Slytherins. And second, he hated himself. Hated himself for being an actor who never let his mask slip, a puppet, who danced as his father pulled the treads attached to him. Hated what he was, when he could have been something else. Someone else. And now, his masked slipped. It slipped because he was alone. Because he finally was alone, with no one to see him. Every emotion he had ever locked up was plain on his face, and he did not know if he was ashamed of it, or proud.  
  
Noise from around the corner made him put his mask back on. Someone was strolling in the hallway, and it didn't sound like a teacher. He stopped beside the sleeping picture of Wendelin the Weird, and listened. He heard sobbing, heavy panting and humming. Someone was humming a merry childs tune! He peeked carefully around the corner, and the assemblance of people seemed as strange as the noises. Weasley was carrying something. The one humming was their sorry excuse of a dark arts professor. A short, redheaded girl, the youngest Weasley, who sniffed loudly, was grasping sword and some other things whit trembling hands. But most importantly, they were heading straight against him, and he had no where to hide.Better come out and face them than trying to hide behind an old armor. He wondered what the Weasley girl was crying about. Maybe she knew the girl down in the Chamber. That made sense, as they had both been first years, and both gryffs. And what was Weasel boy carrying?  
  
"Go away, Malfoy. Things are bad enough as it is." Weasley had spotted him, but the remark had startled him. Not because he had ever thought Weasley would be polite to him, but because the words lacked his usual energy, and the glint normally seen in his eyes was gone. What could do that? No matter that the boy was a prat, he knew that, but something about that flat tone in his voice raised an alarm in Draco's head. Then, as he made out what Weasley was holding, he knew. It was Potter, pale and lifeless, eyes closed and lips blue. He wasn't breathing.  
  
"Shut up, Weasel." He bit his teeth. Probably not the best time to make remarks, but even if he regretted what he'd said, he wasn't going to apologize. Mafloys don't apologize. "What happened?"  
  
"Just get lost, will you?" Still, the same flatness in his voice, as if nothing would be done no matter if Draco moved or not. But the girl had raised her head. Her eyes were red-brimmed and glazed too, and for a moment he saw that she was infact a rather pretty girl. Not his style, but there was no denying that she was pretty. He wondered for a brief moment what the Weasel would say if told that to his face. Usually, Draco would be expecting a fist right between the eyes, but now he wasn't too sure. The girl, Virginia, started talking in a trembling voice.  
  
"Down in the chamber... They came to save me... Tom... A basilisk bit him. It bit Harry... It's too late now. Too late..." That was why she was trembling. She had been the one taken down in the chamber. Potter and the Weasel had followed to save the day, and now Potter was dead. In one way, it served him right, but Draco wondered what he had done, had it been his sister, or the sister of a friend as close as Weasley. He didn't know, as he had neither a sister, or a friend like that. Besides, he was a Slytherin. None of that foolish bravery would kill him. He was cunning.  
  
If a basilisk had met his eyes, then Harry was as dead as Myrtle, but the girl said he'd been bit, and a basilisk's venom didn't work that quick.  
  
"Weasley, let me have a look at him. It might not be to late."  
  
"You're not gonna touch him, Malfoy. I'll have yo.." But Ron was cut of.  
  
"Stop being a prat Ron. There's nothing we can do, and if Malfoy can, then let him. We got nothing more to lose, and all to gain." Virginia had pulled herself together for long enough to talk her older brother to sense, but now, she was sobbing again. Malfoy leaned over to check Potters pulse, while Ron was too startled to do anything. He could feel a puls. It was weak, but it was there.  
  
"Weasley, you fool. He's not dead. Not yet, but he will be, if you don't do exactly what I tell you to." The dumbstruck look on the weasels face would have made him laugh any other day, but the situation was to grave.  
  
"W-what? But..."  
  
"Now listen. You stay here and wait for me. In the meantime, one of you, I think Potter might prefer you to do this," he pointed at Ginny. "must perform mouth to mouth. It is vital that he doesn't suffocate, and the poison weakens his lounges." Ginny's face turned into a bright red that clashed horribly with her hair, and nodded.  
  
"Hey, where are you going?" Ron cried, but Malfoy had already turned the corner.  
  
AN: Wow, that was a lot of thoughts, and little action. If you don't like it that way, and want me to cut the crap, tell me. As for my reviewers:  
  
Mingo-iza-cutie: Thanks. I continued, didn't I?  
  
Lord Dreadnault: Yes, I updated right behind your very back. You think I'm good at writing? Awww, thanks. BTW, for some reason I just love your name!  
  
Kim: I really hadn't thought of the reactions of Mrs. Weasley and Dumbledore. I actually wrote it as a one post were Harry really died, but when you say it, I know that it is something that has to be dealt with. Thanks!  
  
Neonfizz: Or you'll make me update? Well, there's no need for that, is it? I have updated.  
  
Darcel: That's great! Do I have to log on to see it, or can I just type the address? And most importantly, do I get reviews?  
  
Quoth the Raven: Your review was the best! I loved that you told me what you liked in the story, cause I was afraid you guys might think the things were crapy. Thank you so much! PS: If you want to be my beta-reader, then you're welcome!  
  
Darcel: Well, what do you think now? You still don't know if it'll work. Come back to find out!  
  
Englishgirl: Good to see you thought it was good. And the next installment is here!  
  
Sailor Sol: I'm glad you think it's original, and that you think the story is good. I'm keeping up the work, now you keep up reviewing!  
  
Lucil: Continued, it is. Will Harry really not return? Well what do you think? Find out in later chapters!  
  
Silent Angle: I didn't leave him, did I? And I am working!  
  
Next chapter coming up soon, on a computer near you!!! But only if you review!!! So push the magic button. It's not that often you can contact the author of a story you read, and get a reply, now is it? 


	4. A what?

**(Tom said that the Basilisk's poison worked slow to take away Harry's hope of surviving. Better not take any chances, right? And wizards use CPR because magic cannot do that. In Wheel of Time, Rand tries to resoruct a dead girl with the one power, but she becomes nothing more than a shell, walking, breathing, but not living. That's how I imagine it would be in the wizard world as well, if you do it by magic, and I'm sorry if anyone thinks I'm completely wrong.)  
  
And now, a short résumé of what's happened so far: Fawks gives Harry the sorting hat and the sword, but leaves. Harry gets bitten by the basilisk, destroys the memory of Tom Riddle and is hanging between life and death somewhere due to the poison. Ron, Ginny and Lockhart takes Harry out of the chamber, but Harry's stopped breathing. They run into Draco Malfoy in a hallway, and he offers to help. Not knowing what to do, the good guys accept, and are waiting for Malfoy to return with what could save Harry. And that is where our story continues.  
  
Chapter Title:  
  
A what..?  
  
AN: Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry , sorry...  
  
I will update more often, I promise. I'm very sorry!  
**  
It was a good thing Malfoy was a slytherin, for once, because then he knew the dungeons, and it was important for him to get to Snapes office as quick as possible. The sound of his footsteps echoed down the hallway as he ran, but he knew no one would hear it. For the thousandth time, Malfoy asked himself why he was doing this, and for Potter, no less. There was no lost love between them, and he knew he wasn't really doing this for Potter.  
  
The sight of Scarface lifeless, turning blue had bothered Malfoy. Not because Malfoy cared about him, as the chance of him caring about the boy- who-bloody-lived had been destroyed when his hand had been turned down on the behalf of Weasley and a mudblood. For all he cared, Potter could bite the dust then and there, had it not been for one tiny little thing. And that was strength. Malfoy had always considered Potter as strong, after all he had to be, to face the Dark Lord twice and live to tell the tale. No one weak could do that. Seeing someone you considered strong slowly fading away into nothingness could make anyone realize how vulnerable they were themselves, and that was never pleasant. If Potter survived, then he could hold onto the delusion that he would never die for a bit longer. Just a little bit, and he needed that. That was one of the reasons why his feet were thudding against the stone floor right now. Another might be the fact that this was a chance for Malfoy to seriously dent his fathers plans, hopefully without him ever knowing, and that itself was enough for the slytherin. It gave him the feeling of actually being in control, at least of himself.  
  
And this was why he was now breaking an entry into Snape's office. He was as quick and soundless as possible in his search, not doubting that if he was caught, Snape would allow Filch to hang him by his thumbs for the night, not caring what his father or Dumbledore might say.  
  
He found what he was looking for, and carefully wrapped it in a clean handkerchief of fine cloth, with the Malfoy family emblem sewn into it.  
  
Soon his boots were beating against the cold stone floor once again, and Malfoy was greeted by the sight of the youngest Weasel, bending over Potter, blowing fresh air into his mouth as her older brother was trying to look away, ears burning red. Potheads lips had gained some color, but he showed no other sign of life.  
  
The girl lifted her head to discover that Malfoy had returned, and he was holding something in his hand.  
  
"What's that?" Ron asked suspiciously.  
  
"A bezoar, Weasley." Malfoy sneered. Being friendly to muggle-lovers was something Malfoy would never lower himself to, no matter that he was just doing something he never thought he'd do anyway.  
  
"And what's that?" Ronald asked densly  
  
"Honestly, don't you pay any attention in class?" Stupid weasel. "It's a stone found in the belly of a goat, and it can save you, even if you are inches from death." Weasley's eyes seemed to light up, then he asked.  
  
"What's he gonna do? Eat it? Cause I doubt he's able to."  
  
"No, you git. He's not gonna eat it. A bezoar will save the human who touches it, but it can only be used once. That's why I'm not touching it myself. It would have been ruined if I did. Now get out of my way."  
  
Malfoy unwrapped the stone, and carefully placed it in Harry's hand, before slowly backing away.  
  
Several intense, excruciating moments later, Harry's chest showed signs of breath. Ot was weak and uneven, but he was breathing!  
  
"He's breathing!" Ginny cried."Merlin, he's breathing." Then she broke down again, sobbing.  
  
Ron stepped over to lift him up again, and Malfoy let him.  
  
Before the redhead picked the unconscious boy of the ground, he stopped in front of the blond before him, look down on his hand as he wringed them uncomfortably. Malfoy sighed, guessing what was coming next.  
  
"Look, Malfoy," Ron started, still not believing what he was about to say. "I just wanted to say..." He drew a deep breath. "Oh bugger this. I just want to say thanks, I wont forget it." Malfoy just smirked at him, and Ron's ears were burning worse than ever.  
  
"Oh yes, you will." He said, and before anyone had a chance to react, he pulled his wand, and gave it a flick while muttering the word "Obliviate". Ron just stared at him, anger replacing the embarrassment that had been there previously.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" He asked angrily.  
  
"Might ask the same thing of you, Weasley." Malfoy smirked evilly. "If you have the time to answer, that is. Seems you should worry a bot more about getting your friend over there to the hospital wing." He sent a look at Potter on the floor, and Ron followed his line of sight. He suddenly seemed to remember where he was, and why. Noting the slow breathing from his friend, he ran towards him, Malfoy forgotten. Malfoy himself watched as Weasley picked up to skinny, black-haired boy and started walking towards the hospital wing. As soon as he and his sister was gone, he turned and walked back to the slytherin common room, leaving the hallway empty, except for Lockhart, who was having a rather interesting conversation with a picture of an old wizard with a wart on his nose. A horrible dresser, but really quite interesting.  
  
**TBC...  
  
AN: Wow. That took quite some time to update, didn't it? I'm really sorry. I'll see what I can do to be quicker later, right right right?  
  
As for another thing that I find quite important, is how Draco Malfoy has changed since chapter three. He's turned out to be more of a nasty git, hasn't he? Well, that is because I have finally realised that Malfoy is a right bastard, and I really don't like him anymore. OotP and the fanfic After the End made me realize this, and I see there is no redemption out there with his name on it. I realize that, since he started out quite nice in this fanfic, I can't keep him completly in character, but I'll do my best. If there's anyone out there who does love Malfoy, and thinks he and Hermione is meant to be, I have a piece of advice as to how to let it go. Watch Buffy. The Draco you think you see, is in fact Spike. You can't redeme Malfoy, he is evil, but Spike will be redemed, and there you are. And Buffy can fit Hermiones profil pretty good. So leave the D/H, become a Spuffy shipper, and understand that the only man for Hermione is Ron.  
  
As for the reviewers:  
  
Quoth the Raven: Draco knew about mouth to mouth because no spell would do him any good in such situations. A potion might help, but you don't always have potions, now do you? I like to think of him as well educated, in spite of being all evil and stuff. As for the basillisk venom, that was something I actually had planned. You see, Riddle told Harry that he would die in a very short time to keep him from doing something to save himself, like telling someone who might try to help him down there. (He couldn't outrule Ginny, he was a very precatious teenager. Would he ever be as powerful as Voldemort, if he kept believing that things would always go his way, because they where well planned?) I believe Riddle knew that hope can be the greatest power, or weakness of the enemy, and therefor knew when to give hope, to make them do something foolish and brave, or take it, when it might give them the extra energy they needed to win the fight. I don't know if you've read Wheel of Time, but there, the main character, Rand, tries to wake a little girl from death, but it doesn't work. She breathes, her heart beats, but she still is dead, so when a friend of his is hanged in next book, he saves him with mouth-to-mouth. As for spelling, I'm sorry, but I'm not english, and I don't really speak english outside english classes in school. You're still welcome to be my beta-reader.  
  
Facade1: Thanks. I have updated. Please review soon.  
  
Elven Ice Angle: Evil? Me? NEVA!!! I love it when people thinks I write good. It makes my day! **


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